


i think i used to know you (are you different now?)

by kylorenhasan8pack



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Gen, Groping, Kissing, M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension, Smut, in which poe is just not a good spy, or almost smut, pre smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 15:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21459955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylorenhasan8pack/pseuds/kylorenhasan8pack
Summary: When Poe Dameron runs into a ragged, outcast, and fairly drunk Armitage Hux at an outer rim planet cantina, he decides to do some recon...but damn, he makes a terrible spy. Goes along with the theory that Hux either runs from the First Order post TLJ or is banished. Post TLJ/Pre TROS. Gingerpilot.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	i think i used to know you (are you different now?)

_Oh boy, is this one bad idea. You’ve done it now, Poe. You’ve gotten into some scrapes in your day, but this? You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? No, you saw a stray and you had to try to pet it. You could have left him alone, or better yet, told Leia and the rest of the Resistance his location, but nooo. You just had to charge in head first like everything else. This is bad. This is-_

  
“I haven’t got all day.” 

  
The frantic, running dialogue playing in Poe’s head stops abruptly at the familiar, stern voice. 

  
A disheveled and downright wobbly General Hux – yes, of the First Order and everything, Hux – stands in front of him. He’s not like the holos he’s seen of him or even the still images. He hasn’t had a regulation haircut to that mop of orange hair in a while, that’s for sure, though from the looks of it, he tried it himself and didn’t do so well. It’s not bad, exactly, but it’s not the precision that a droid would have and it definitely doesn’t look like he’s ever had to do it himself. The General – is he one anymore? There had been rumors – is also missing that big, pretty, black coat of his. His clothes are common. Well-kept and makeshift-pressed from the looks of it, but definitely not military grade anything. He’s thinner too, if that’s even possible, not starving, more like the type of bony you get from stress and forgetting to eat a meal too many times. Poe can’t remember the last time he could afford that sort of mood. All in all, it’s an interesting look for him. 

  
“_Well_?” Comes the sniveling voice again. 

  
It was one that probably commanded respect back in the First Order, but to Poe, it seems put on. _Fake._

  
Poe hasn’t ever been scared of ol’ General Hugs or even particularly cautious when it came to one on one’s, but he’d always known what he was capable of, at least. He’s known that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill him or anybody else, maybe even his own guys if it meant winning. When he’d seen that same man slumped against the table of an outer rim cantina booth, far from any sign of Kylo Ren or the First Order, he didn’t know _what_ to feel. All he knew is that he seemed different, vulnerable, and if the rumors were true, maybe he'd be more willing to talk than usual. Naturally, he invited him to his room. 

  
“Are you drunk?” Poe keeps his distance. What is he supposed to do now? _Dammit, Poe._

Hux’s dry response can almost be interpreted from his expression alone. “You found me in _bar_.” 

  
“Yeah, so, I mean,” Poe stammers, still struggling to come up with a halfway decent plan. What’s he supposed to do? Interrogate him? Fight him? But the look in the other man’s eyes assures him that Hux only followed him for a different reason entirely. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this if one of us is—and another thing. How do you know I didn’t just ask you here to kill you?”

  
“I don’t, but it couldn’t be worse than where I am now. Come over here,” the other man commands, as if he still – or ever – had the authority to be ordering him around. Instead of waiting for him to move, the ex-General steps forward himself, in a shaky but purposeful stride and grabs him by the collar, yanking forward and sending his lips crashing towards his own mouth. 

  
Poe makes a muffled_ mmpf_ sound, surprised, even if he shouldn’t be, but hell, it’s been a while. This can’t be happening. He can’t have let himself get into this situation. He can’t be kissing General Armitage Hux of the First Order--_Oh hell._ The curse crosses his mind unbidden as his mouth opens and his tongue slides against the other man’s own, warm and wet. It doesn’t matter if he can’t be, because he is kissing General Hux of the First damned Order. Poe hears a sound that’s almost a pleased groan escape him, but he’s going to go ahead and label that officially an exhale for his own sanity.

  
_This isn’t right, this isn’t right, this isn’t-_

  
“Oh shit,” Poe murmurs out the swear as he feels the other man’s hand cup his crotch and then _squeeze_. His body begins to react before he can even think to stop it, to think of all the horror this man has caused, or to even weigh if there’s any chance that he’ll get out of this with useful information.

  
“Mmm. That’s better.” Hux nearly purrs out the words, his squeeze turning into a rhythmic massage. “I know you are who you are...pilot.” 

  
“You-you do?” 

  
“Don’t patronize me, Dameron. I know who you are and I know why you invited me here. To interrogate me, to kill me…what does it matter anymore?” His hand never stops, his mouth still so close that Poe can feel his breath on his face, thick with the scent of the drinks he’d been throwing back all night. 

  
Poe does his best not to show it on his face. It being, the fact that he has a full on hard on, thick and heavy in his enemy’s hand, just from that little bit of attention. He’s ignored his overactive sex drive for too long apparently, and now apparently, his body is calling quits on him. He wants to pull away, or rather, he knows he _should_ pull away. He should reach for his blaster and get out of this mess, but it's just kind of a tricky situation when the person you're planning to threaten already has your balls in their hand. 

  
“If you think that, then…why don’t you come back with me to-”

  
“_No!_ Just because they won’t have me anymore, doesn’t mean that my allegiance lies anywhere else. I still _believe_ in it.” The General’s voice gets sharp and then cracks. His hand squeezes until it’s almost uncomfortable…then it relaxes, easing back into the slow massage, as if the brief show of hurt and vulnerability had never happened. “I’m simply suggesting, perhaps we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.” 

  
Poe’s voice is breathier than he’d like to admit. “An arrangement?” 

  
“Yes. I won’t be joining you, nor will I be turning myself over to your firing squads.” 

  
“The Resistance has those? I thought that was just the First Order,” Poe jokes weakly. Hux’s hands stops abruptly, and despite himself, Poe pushes his hips forward in a little thrust. 

  
“You never stop running that pretty mouth, do you?” Hux peers at him quizzically, drunk, but it still feels to Poe like he’s looking straight through him. Again, he can almost _see_ what Hux wants to say and it’s a lot. Threats, commands, innuendos…threatening, commanding, innuendos? Yeah, probably that. 

  
“So, what’s the arrangement?” 

  
“Hmm. We’ll see.” Hux scoffs.

  
And then Hux is kissing him again and Poe figures maybe this is the easiest option to getting what he wants out of the First Order General, if he even is one anymore. 


End file.
